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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24205789">Rooftop Interlude</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/OutRes/pseuds/OutRes'>OutRes</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Mirror's Edge</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Class Issues, Exhibitionism, F/F, Fingerfucking, First Time, Omorashi, Pre-Mirror's Edge, Roof Sex, pissing on the rich as a turn-on</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 15:33:55</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,565</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24205789</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/OutRes/pseuds/OutRes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Faith and Celeste get stuck on a rooftop amidst a security sweep. The pair of Runners eventually turn the situation to their advantage.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Faith Connors/Celeste Wilson</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>22</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Rooftop Interlude</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I went into this one primarily wanting to do something unique with the setting... so I wrote a smut about pissing (and eventually fucking) from the top of a skyscraper. Enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The City, gleaming in monochrome uniformity during the day, took on a different energy at night. </p><p>One by one, the lights of its many skyscrapers flickered on - often of that stark fluorescent white, but also in multitudes of red, blue, and green. These were the colors of wealth, signifying the freedom to curtly sidestep the dystopian citizenship laws of the ever-growing “New City” ideal by hiding behind corporate branding, or the extravagant and perpetual social functions arranged by those same companies.</p><p>The latter was indeed the case this night, with the Dryson Motor Company’s rooftop unveiling of its newest, dullest model of staid-white town sedan. It was, as one might expect, an ostentatious event, its guest list a who’s who of puffed-up executives, beleaguered functionaries, and aloof dignitaries, all jockeying for power, wealth, and fame in a world rapidly constricting itself around even them.</p><p>In other words, a prime place for a handoff.</p><p>Above the enlivened rooftop courtyard, two figures, both svelte in form, clambered atop a neighboring building’s towering overlook. One, mixed Asian-Caucasian in appearance, wearing a black tanktop and white cargo pants, sat on the edge of the roof, red running shoes dangling over a drop that was precipitous, to say the least - not that it bothered her. The other perched atop a nearby air-conditioning unit, her piercing glare, in unison with red t-shirt, black pants and white-and-black converse sneakers, betrayed a fighter’s energy more than a Runner’s.</p><p>It was she who spoke, tension thick in her voice. "<em>Stand by?  </em>What the hell do you mean, Merc?”</p><p>A tough, masculine voice replied in her ear. “It means, <em>stand by</em>, Cel. That hole in Dryson’s security net you two slipped through to do this transfer just closed way ahead of schedule.” </p><p>The blonde rocked on her heels, preparing to bolt. Her accomplice spoke up, her cool voice an antithesis. “So, what, we’ve been compromised?”</p><p>There was silence over the comm channel for a moment, then a focused murmur. “I don’t think so. Their code reads more like a diagnostic routine taking over than a triggered alarm.”</p><p>Faith quietly sighed in relief; Celeste scoffed, and said, “In other words, we’re stuck up here because you forgot to check if they were testing their systems <em> tonight</em>.”</p><p>They heard a chuckle, an audible drag off a cigarette. “Pretty much.”</p><p>The red Runner whacked her fist against the AC unit. “Damn it, Merc!” </p><p>Faith twisted around in her spot, brow arched. “What’s eating you?” She gestured to a satchel leaning against Cel’s perch, adding, “The client wasn’t expecting that data until morning anyway.”</p><p>The blonde didn’t answer, fidgeting with the band keeping her hair in its ponytail.</p><p>Even miles away, the Tracker could read the taut awkwardness. “Uh, anyway, ladies, you should be good up there for the time being. I’ll contact you again when there’s anything new. Enjoy the festivities.”</p><p>And then the comm channel was silent, leaving the two women in isolation on the rooftop.</p><p>Taking Merc’s cue, Faith turned back to the party. The big event hadn’t started quite yet, but there was still all sorts of activity. A hapless waiter was besieged by a dozen party guests at once, all firing off exorbitantly-varied drink orders. Hangers-on circulated between social cliques in a strange dance only truly obvious from above. An endless line of middle-aged middle managers made the exact same, shallow small talk with the bored stage models hired to glamourize the lifeless hulk of metal and plastic adorning the center of the courtyard.</p><p>The sight nearly turned Faith’s stomach.</p><p>She emoted in disgust, then hefted her legs up, preparing to make actual, genuine conversation with somebody she believed felt the same way. </p><p>But she paused.</p><p>Celeste was no longer atop the AC unit, but instead was now pacing with an intensity that threatened to drive a furrow in the concrete. </p><p>Faith rose, closing the distance between them in a few feathery, concerned steps. “Seriously, Cel, what’s up?”</p><p>The blonde looked at her fellow Runner darkly, furrowed brow gleaming with perspiration. She looked ahead as if to compose herself, then refocused on Faith.</p><p>“I have to take a piss.”</p><p>Faith Connors blinked.</p><p>“Oh.”</p><p>Celeste Wilson nodded briskly.</p><p>“Yep.”</p><p>In most situations, it wasn’t a terrible problem for Runners, that omnipresent call of nature; there was always a secluded spot, a bucket, or at least a cardboard box. Almost always.</p><p>Faith’s eyes darted around the rooftop, realizing what her compatriot had minutes ago. The place was practically barren; a sixty-by-sixty-foot concrete square with an AC unit here, some cooling pipes there. Not a convenient place to pee to be seen. </p><p>Celeste sighed in resignation. “Guess I’ll just have to do it in the open.” She began to stalk over to the opposite end of the rooftop. Faith hadn’t realized she was still facing the blonde until the taller Runner turned and smarmed, “Didn’t know you were into that kind of thing, Faith.”</p><p>Still half-withdrawn within herself, digesting that earlier quagmire of class disparity, Connors missed the joke. “<em>What </em> thing?”</p><p>This time, it was a sigh of dismissive exasperation that greeted the black-haired woman. Finally shook out of her ponderous reverie, she grokked what her partner had implied. </p><p>Out of courtesy (and a desire to hide a growing blush), Faith turned back to the party, just in time to witness a wretched display. A bespoke-suited executive, recklessly pushing through the crowd to reach some colleagues, had bumped into a waitress burdened with an oversized tray of finger foods. The woman fell, her consignment flying right into the ribbed jacket of said executive.    </p><p>Faith cringed at the accident... and winced even more as the man went rigid with rage and proceeded to spout obscenities at the still-recovering worker. Instinctively, Connors looked for some way, <em> any </em>way she could help the poor woman, but to no avail; she was up here, and they were down there. All she could do was watch in powerless indignance as the man escalated his verbal assault.</p><p>Even worse, nobody was stepping in to help the waitress, or even defuse the exec’s temper. Some were even laughing at the sight. </p><p>Faith balled her fists, swore under her breath. “Assholes...” But on that last syllable, she caught herself. Something below had sparked a thought, one that had near-instantaneously emptied the mire that was her befouled disposition. </p><p>An MC had called everyone to attention, her electric brogue announcing that the event was about to begin. At this, all the support staff, even the now-suddenly-relieved waitress, cleared the courtyard, leaving the beneficiaries of their labors idling in open, clear sight of Faith.</p><p>The Runner mulled her options. An improvised bomb would be counterproductive for countless reasons. <em> Any </em> sort of display, for that matter, would likely end with her and Celeste arrested…</p><p>Faith jerked up. But there it was: <em> Celeste. </em></p><p>A half-shout. “Cel, wait!”</p><p>An aggrieved bark. “What?!?”</p><p>The blonde was half-squatting, pants and black boyshorts around her knees.</p><p>“Come over here. Now.”</p><p>Thinking that, at the very least, their position had been compromised somehow, Celeste hurriedly redressed and sprinted back over to Faith.</p><p>Cel ran up, again fidgeting with her hair tie. “What’s up? Have we been made?” The black-haired woman shook her head, motioning below them to the courtyard. “Look down there.”</p><p>Celeste complied, a moment later turning back to Faith, her expression an obvious question. </p><p>“You see all those stuffed suits? All those assholes who think a bigger paycheck makes you intrinsically superior to the other person? All those-”</p><p>“Faith, I know you’re having a moment but <em> I really gotta pee</em>.”</p><p>The Runner nodded rapidly. “Yes, exactly.”</p><p>A protracted moment of silence developed between the two as Celeste grokked <em> her </em>partner’s meaning.</p><p>“You’re not saying…you want me to… <em> pee </em>on them?”</p><p>Faith met her partner’s open-mouthed gaze with intensity. “Why not?”</p><p>“It’s… really fucking weird? It could get us, you know, caught?”</p><p>“It’s what they deserve.”</p><p>Cel wordlessly motioned for more. She needed <em> more </em>of this seemingly-inane scheme.</p><p>And so Faith continued spelling it out. “And it’s not like they’d notice. Not now anyway. This high up, they’d think it was just some evening mist. At worst.”</p><p>The blonde still wasn’t sold. “So what’s the point, then?”</p><p>“The <em> point</em>,” her partner emphasized, an angry finger pointing down, “is that we’re stuck up <em> here </em> while the worst of the worst mingle and play games with our lives down <em> there</em>. Yes, we could hang out, twiddle our thumbs while Merc calls us again.” Faith glanced back at the party, smirking. “Or we could fuck with some rich assholes.”</p><p>For a second, Celeste looked genuinely conflicted, more so than the black-haired Runner expected. Had she judged wrongly?</p><p>“Oh, fine.”</p><p>Apparently not.</p><p>Celeste hopped atop the ledge, a sense of balance honed from years of experience in places like this keeping her steady. “So just squat and... go to town?” Faith craned her neck. “How else would you go?”</p><p>Cel, already re-lowering her pants, groaned. The girl was simply oblivious. </p><p>Her vulva and ass now fully on display for roughly a-hundred-and-fifty people, the blonde chanced a look back at Faith. The Runner was staring, not at Cel, but at the space between them and the gathered crowd. Gaze rigid, she said, “What are you waiting for, <em> go</em>.”</p><p>Celeste huffed, trying to relax enough to do just that. Peeing in isolation on a remote side of a skyscaper was one thing; peeing in front of a friend-slash-colleague as part of some weird-ass protest was another.</p><p>Faith, perhaps recognizing the issue, broke off her calculating survey. Cel saw movement in her periphery, that of her partner sidling up next to her on the ledge. Before she could voice the question, Faith squatted, lowering her own pants and panties just as Cel did.</p><p>The blonde was uneasy at first, but after a few seconds, she was able to make out Faith’s even breathing against the wind. The smell of her surprisingly-dainty anti-perspirant. The subtle squeaking of her shoes as she repositioned herself.</p><p>For reasons she could only begin to explain, it was… calming.</p><p>As if on cue, twin arcs of urine shot out from atop the skyscraper. Celeste sighed in bliss at finally being able to relieve herself. Faith remained stoic. “Rotate... 5 degrees.” Cel, not quite here nor there, mumbled an inundated “Whaa…” so the black-haired Runner - very carefully - nudged the blonde so that she arced slightly more to the right.</p><p>“Perfect.” </p><p>Of course, deep down, Faith knew that the ignoramuses downstairs weren’t even feeling the light mist she promised; the science of prevailing winds virtually guaranteed that their streams were merely spattering the windows of the offices a few floors below them. </p><p>But it <em> felt </em>right.</p><p>Faith, not having as nearly a dire impetus to pee as Celeste did, finished quickly, drying herself with her shirt. But her partner, she noticed, still had <em> plenty </em>in the tank. </p><p>Celeste was in a state of near-orgasmic rapture as she emptied her troubles into the concrete abyss. So heady were her unconscious sighs and moans that Faith couldn’t help but look downward to the blonde’s spurting quim, delicately-illuminated by the festivities below. The Runner noticed that, for somebody constantly on the move, Cel kept herself pretty <em> well-maintained </em>down there; a neatly-formed landing strip confirming that the blonde was indeed, well, naturally-so.</p><p>More relevant, however, was Celeste’s clit, fully-engorged in the low light. </p><p>Faith blew out a breath. She’d never thought she’d see her friend like this, not in a hundred years. She had a better chance of missing a jump and falling to her death than watching Celeste fuckin’ Wilson get hot over peeing out in the open. </p><p>The Runner felt a rare heat rush down to her own privates - just as Cel finally stopped. </p><p>And realized what she’d been doing. </p><p>The blonde promptly scrambled away from the ledge, hobbling as her pants were still around her knees. Faith could read Celeste’s foggy confusion resolving into action as she hastily pulled up her pants and turned around, acting like nothing had happened. </p><p>But Faith had seen.</p><p>Cel dusted off her hands, unable to make eye contact. “So, uh, that’s over and done with.” She gulped, mind racing. “Know any games?”</p><p>The black-haired Runner did have a game in mind. Of a sort.</p><p>“Cel…” Faith drawled, “I have another idea.”</p><p>Her slow, sulty tones intermingled with a sudden blast of sound from down-below. A bespectacled, portly man had taken the stage. Both Runners recognized him as Sheamus Varoni, the CEO of Dryson. He began with a typical round of canned jokes, then moved on to a blisteringly-shallow introduction for the main attraction. </p><p>Her attention seeping back to Celeste, Faith gnawed her lip for a second, then began.</p><p>“What we did just now… that felt <em> good</em>.” Surprisingly, Cel agreed with the subtlest of nods. “A-and, I know we can’t get caught, but I want to…. keep going.”</p><p>“And there’s only one way I know how.”</p><p>Celeste’s heart skipped a beat.</p><p>Faith turned her back to the blonde, back to the main event. Loosened and stripped from trembling fingers her red climber’s glove. She dropped it to the floor, a black elbow stocking following in short order.</p><p>The Runner slowly exhaled, composing herself. She then grasped the hem of her black tank with both hands, and pulled it up and over her head in an unceasing, flowing motion. Her arms dropped to her sides, the shirt in her barely-existent grip succumbing to gravity and fluttering down to the concrete. </p><p>Faith Connors, her bared, slender breasts alight in the semidarkness, panted - not at the pompous fool pulling away a curtain to reveal yet <em> another </em> capitalistic distraction for a brainwashed populace - but at her own defiance. Not just of those halfwits below, but of <em> herself</em>. She’d never exposed herself like this before. Nor could imagine doing such a thing before tonight.</p><p>And she wasn’t even done yet.</p><p>Slowly and methodically, Faith began undoing the bindings securing the bottom of her cargo pants to her legs. Bent down, she caught a glimpse of Celeste, frozen in place. Not fidgeting, or pacing. Just watching, jaw ever-so-slightly ajar.</p><p>The faux-leather straps soon joined the rest of the black-haired Runner’s belongings. She then toed off her running shoes, which made a rubbery *pop* as they cleared her bare feet.</p><p>Where direct contact with the concrete below might have chilled her before, it now felt <em> invigorating, </em>barely quashing the fire raging deep within Faith.</p><p>Her heart raced as she moved to remove the last impediment to her rash exhibitionism, unbuttoning and practically shoving down her pants. The panties below were laden in arousal, but Faith kept them on. For the moment.</p><p>Stepping out of and away from her garments, the Runner stalked over to the edge of the roof. Saw the CEO toasting his car and his people, hopeful in a successful, profitable future. </p><p>Faith had only one response to that.</p><p>Shivering in the taboo of it all, she hooked thumbs under waistband, drawing her soaked panties down her legs. Hesitating only a moment, she balled them up… and tossed them over the side to the party below.</p><p>This finally shook Celeste out of her dumbstruck trance. She rushed forward, yelling. “Are you <em> insane?!?  </em>You’re gonna get us caug--” But she paused. Her eyes echoed Faith’s own as she watched the pair of black panties unfurl in the wind, drifting down, closer and closer to the festivities.</p><p>Both women couldn’t have breathed for the world.</p><p>Yet, at that moment, confetti exploded from pre-placed canisters around the car, cheerfully marking the end of the executive’s speech. Like camouflage, the brightly-colored chaff masked the approach of the besotted underwear as it came to a rest… atop the hood of the newest Dryson automobile.</p><p>Celeste gasped. Faith was stock-still.</p><p>But, miraculously, they didn’t remain, an unfelt breeze propelling them off the hood and out of sight.</p><p>The Runners nearly collapsed in relief.</p><p>Celeste recovered first, her face contorting in naked anger. She grabbed Faith by her bare shoulders, yanking her away from the ledge. Twisting the woman around to face her, she blurted “Fucking… you could have <em> killed </em>us, Fai--” before she took stock in the sight gracing her field of vision.</p><p>Faith. <em> All </em>of Faith. Wide jaw limp, brown eyes dilated, dusky nipples engorged. A hand unconsciously toying with somewhat-kempt pubes.</p><p>Before all this, Celeste had certainly thought of her as attractive, but the constraints of their shared profession rarely allowed for the sort of bond to form that’d lead to any real sort of intimacy.</p><p>And yet, here they were, and here it was.</p><p>So, Celeste surrendered to the first impulse to arc across her tension-wrought brain.</p><p>She kissed Faith. Hard. </p><p>Lips hungrily locked with the blonde, Faith numbly digested what was happening, and with the mental equivalent of a shrug, eagerly returned the kiss.</p><p>When they eventually broke for air, the black-haired Runner took stock of her partner. Cel was doubled over, clearly burdened by the gravity of what she’d just done. She was also blushing so hard that the roses on her pale cheeks reached to the hollows of her eyes <em> and </em>the contours of her jaw.</p><p>The blonde shook her head, seemingly trying to will the redness away. “We… <em> I… </em> shouldn’t have done that.” But before she could continue, Faith padded what little distance there was between them, taking Cel’s shaking hands in her own.</p><p>“We have time,” she whispered.</p><p>Celeste silently conceded the point. The comm <em> had </em>been silent, and the party below remained lively, its DJ pumping out thick beats of electronica.</p><p>To that beating bass, Faith let go of her partner’s hand, drifted fingers along the blonde’s bare midriff. </p><p>A murmur. “Do you truly want this?”</p><p>Celeste looked Faith in the eyes with that same intense glare she’d displayed when in desperate need of relieving herself. She gulped.</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>For the first time tonight, Faith smiled. Then she kissed Celeste, not once, not twice, but thrice. With each peck, she tugged at the blonde’s full lips, swelling them even further in torsion. Naturally, Cel returned the favor, gloved hands finding their way down to firmly massage a trim posterior.</p><p>Pushing her now-lover back against the AC unit, Faith moaned into the blonde’s mouth, her own hands creeping past the waistband of Cel’s pants. Nimble fingers dipped past underwear made moist by arousal and urine, past that oh-so-neatly-trimmed landing strip, to caress pussy lips inflamed in blatant arousal.</p><p>To compound this, Faith whispered into the crook of the blonde’s neck, “I <em> watched </em> you piss. <em> Saw </em> how you got off on that.” Celeste hissed air through her teeth. The black-haired Runner crooned, “Didn’t know you were into that kind of thing, <em> Cel</em>.” </p><p>The blonde keened as Faith hooked her fingers deep into Cel’s canal, searching for - and quickly finding - her g-spot. Fingers dug into flesh and toes curled inside shoes as Celeste quickly approached an orgasm that she never could have imagined having. Not like this, and especially not with <em> Faith. </em></p><p>And yet, as her dextrous fingers busily worked at the blonde’s twat, Cel realized that she really couldn’t have imagined it any other way.</p><p>Celeste could barely keep herself from a full-throated yell as she came, her head and back arching against cool metal. The oft-attended hair tie chose the moment to undo itself, letting the blonde’s yellow locks fall freely over her convulsing form. She barely noticed.</p><p>Doubled-over again, albeit for entirely-different reasons, Celeste groaned out, “Holy <em> shit, </em>Faith… where did you learn…” before continuing to regain her bearings. The black-haired Runner, for her part, was engrossed with her now-glistening fingers, pondering. </p><p>She sampled the taste. And found it much to her liking. </p><p>Faith looked now to Celeste, who had recovered, mostly. The blonde’s head was half-bowed, again taking in the woman’s pert, aroused body. A heady grin grew on her face. “I guess you’ll... want me to return the favor?”</p><p>The black-haired Runner flicked her fingers at Cel, the moisture lightly specking the blonde’s face and neck. “If you want.”</p><p>Slowly nodding, Cel licked her lips as she closed in on the object of her percolating desire.</p><p>Suddenly, the comm channel squealed with static, and then a voice.</p><p>“Heads up, ladies! You’ve got choppers closing in on your position! <em> Get out of there! </em>”</p><p>Both women went ram-rod straight, blinking in surprise. Then, simultaneously, “Fuck!”</p><p>But they were still professionals.</p><p>The music of the party below cut out, and its lights - now co-opted by the City’s police force - intensified to such an effect that it fully illuminated Faith and Cel’s hiding spot.</p><p>Celeste looked down and grabbed the intel bag that had been propped up against the AC unit. She glimpsed Faith going for her clothes. “There’s no time, just…” The Runner, caught by Cel’s familiarly-authoritative voice, even over the growing drone of the helicopters, stopped. “Put your shoes on, and leave the rest in the bag!” </p><p>Leaving Faith to flee, in the nude, across the city skyline.</p><p>She expected at least <em> some </em>resistance, but the black-haired Runner didn’t even hesitate as she levered her feet into the red shoes, gathered her shirt and pants, and stuffed them into the intel bag at Cel’s chest, smirking all the while.</p><p>A brief - but <em> firm </em>- kiss for luck, and she was gone.</p><p>Celeste Wilson allowed herself a moment to simply marvel. Then, she too fled into the night.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Yes, that ending teases quite a bit. Might return to the idea at some point. In any case, thanks for reading!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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